The Underlying Tension
by MorbidbyDefault
Summary: Sherlock performs an 'experiment' with a little help from one Molly Hooper. The question remains, is this an actual experiment, or something much more deep-seeded?
1. Chapter 1

So I've been trying to come up with a new story idea, and this one hit me in the middle of work...so I hope you enjoy it. It's kind of a short, funny fic. Not sure if it'll be more than a couple chapters or not. This takes place somewhere after the Christmas scene, and before Reichenbach. Just a what if situation. Lol.

Oh yea, I don't own any of the characters or places in this story. all props go to the creators of Sherlock, both in book and show forms.

Here ya go!

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Chapter One:

Of course it was raining. The one day she had forgotten her jumper and umbrella, it had to rain. Molly lived only a ten minutes walk from the doors of St. Bart's hospital. On any other day, this wouldn't be an issue. However, this had been a particularly bad day for the young woman already. She had woken up late for her normal morning routine. When she had showered and dressed, the sun was shining. She quickly fed her cat, toby, and grabbed a cup of coffee for herself. Only, instead of drinking it, she found it drenching her blouse, as she tripped over the brown tabby as it thanked her for breakfast. She quickly changed into the first shirt she could grab, a black vintage band tee. She ran out the door, almost forgetting to lock it. Then, once she reached the door to the front of her building, the terrential downpour started. Molly knew she didn't have the time to race back upstairs, so she quickly bolted down the street toward work.

By the time she reached the doors to St. Bart's, her ponytail was windblown and stuck to her neck. The dark T-shirt she wore now clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to imagine of what her figure looked like underneath. She walked into her office, ringing out the water in her hair. Molly shivered as she pulled on her labcoat and stepped into the morgue, immediately running into the chest of Sherlock Holmes.

''Ah, Molly. Finally showed up, I see.'' Sherlock said, his voice indifferent as usual.

''Uh, yea, sor-sorry I'm running a tad behind today.'' Molly answered.

She gazed up at him, suddenly realizing their close proximity. She backed up quickly and walked around him. She stepped over to one of the large metal doors.

''I'm guessing you're here to see Mrs. Alten, yes?" She announced as she opened the locker and pulled out the slab. Sherlock promptly stepped over to the other side, eyes flickering over Molly rapidly, drinking in the sight of her figure, the slight curve of her... he quickly away and down at the body of the dead woman.

''Yes thank you, Molly. Coffee, if you don't mind.'' He said, shrugging off his coat.

''Black, two sugars. Sure, I'll just- I'll go get that, then.'' Molly said shyly before leaving. She ran into John as she opened the door.

''Oh, hello John.'' She whispered, before walking briskly down the hall. John turned to watch her, before turning around and walking into the cold room.

''Sherlock, why is Molly soaked to the bone?" He asked upon seeing his friend gazing over a body in the corner. He walked to the corner slab, waiting for an answer. When he received none, John asked again, a bit more forcefully.

''Sherlock, listen to me. Molly was sopping wet, why?" He said, grasping Sherlock's forearm. Sherlock's head shot up suddenly.

''What is it, John? Can't you see I'm busy?" He responded, quite aggravated. His eyes met John's, seeing the usual authority they held when he wasn't as patient. John asked a final time.

''Molly Hooper, I just bumped into her. She was soaked. Why?''

''Because it's raining, and she obviously doesn't own an umbrella. Please John. Do try to ask less obvious questions in the future.'' Sherlock said before returning to his examination of the body. A few moments passed, and Molly returned to lab with two cups of coffee in her hands. She handed one to Sherlock's impatiently held out hand, and then turned, handing the other to John.

''Oh, thank you Molly. You didn't have to...'' John started.

''Oh it's alright.'' Molly said, half interrupting him. She turned to go about her work. As she passed, she unconsciously trembled, clearly succumbing to the cold her body was enduring. John and Sherlock both glanced after her, then gave each other a look of mutual understanding.

''Molly, are you alright?" John called after her, startling her from her concentration. She looked up at the pair, rather confused.

''Sure, wh-why do you ask?" Molly replied, trying to be nonchalant.

''Because you've hardly said two words. You're soaked from head to toe, clearly didn't have time this morning to grab your umbrella, most likely you were running late. You have a splash of coffee on your shoe, but it's dried, which means it was from this morning in your flat. Also explains why you're wearing a different shirt than your normal routine blouse. You spilled coffee on yourself this morning, obviously after tripping over your affectionate cat. Tiny hairs embedded in the pantlegs of your trousers. It didn't start raining until you'd left your flat, so you braved the elements, thus resulting in you being soked and a tremoring mess.'' Sherlock answered her, barely taking a breath. John looked at him, then back to Molly, who was smiling slightly.

''Gotta love Mondays.'' She chuckled softly, shaking her head a bit before shivering once more. John approached her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, still wearing a small grin.

''Molly, your lips are turning blue. You've got to go home and warm up.'' He said, concerned for the way her face paled, making her lips appear more purple. She shook her head fiercely before arguing with him.

''I can't. Busy day. I have at least five bodies to do today, plus all the paper work. No, no I'll be fine.'' She nodded, trying to sound convincing, and again shuddering with the cold. John sighed, before looking at Sherlock, who merely went back to his work.

''Aha!" He suddenly shouted. ''Alright John, phone Lestrade and tell him to go apprehend Mr. Alton. I'll explain the details later. Good day, Molly. Thank you for the coffee. Do go get some scrubs and change at least, you'll be of no use to anyone if you catch cold.'' Sherlock turned, grabbed his coat, and swiftly waltzed out of the morgue. John turned to follow him, before looking to Molly one more time.

''Molly, please at least go change, he's right. You're likely to fall ill if you don't get warm.'' He said. Molly nodded her head slightly.

''Okay, thank you for your concern, John.'' She said to him before he turned and rushed out the door to catch up. Molly sighed to herself. 'Too much to do, I'll be fine.' She thought to herself.

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The next day Molly was in the lab. She felt absolutely hellish. She sniffled, pulling out a tissue to wipe her nose. She was distracted enough that she hadn't heard the door behind her open and close.

''You're sick.'' Came the low baritone voice. Molly jumped on hearing it, and turned around to see Sherlock standing in the doorway. He looked over her small frame, analyzing her. Molly shrugged before a small sigh escaped her,

''So it would seem, yes.'' She answered in a mall voice. She looked away for a moment, which was long enough for Sherlock to step further into the room, toward her. She looked up in time to find him towering over her.

''You didn't listen to my advise then.'' He said, seeming almost hurt. She nodded her head lightly.

''I sort of got caught up in the day. Sorry.'' She whispered.

''Right, well you are taking the day off, then. I'll phone Stamford.'' Sherlock stated as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to Mike Stamford. Molly turned to object as he reached around her, grabbing the lapels of her labcoat, and quickly shucked it from her.

''Sherlock, I can't!'' She began, literally fighting against him as he put her arms through her jacket. He looked down at her, before his lip curled into a half grin. Stamford had stepped into the lab, and Sherlock nodded his gratitude. Suddenly, Molly felt herself being lifted up by strong arms.

Sherlock hoisted up the small pathologist and slung her over his shoulder, before walking out the door to the lab and down the hall of St. Bart's. Molly fought him all the way from the lab until he dropped her into the cab outside.

''What the bloody hell, Sherlock?'' She asked, eyes wild. He merely hummed as he gazed out the window. The cab pulled up to the front of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock paid the cabbie, and quickly grabbed up Molly again, this time carrying her bridal style into the warm flat.

John looked up from his paper, to see Sherlock swiftly walk past with something in tote. He looked down again, before doing a double take, as he heard the 'thing' make a disapproving gasp. He met the gaze of Molly Hooper, as Sherlock dropped her onto the sofa. She looked less than pleased, glaring up at Sherlock as he crossed the room to John.

''She's ill, John. You're the doctor, make her better.'' He said, before crouching on his chair. John looked between Sherlock and Molly, his brain finally catching up with the odd events.

''Hold on, Sherlock, did you drag her all the way here?" He asked. He turned to Molly, knowing he'd get more of a truthful answer. She rolled her eyes before answering him.

''Actually, he carried me here.'' She stated, before sneezing. Sherlock stood up again, appearing slightly distressed.

''You see?" He said, pointing at her. ''She's fallen prey to the cold, and I need her. She's the only competent pathologist at Bart's.'' He continued on like a little boy. ''Now, be the good doctor we both know you're capable of being, and FIX HER!" He pointed again, before he went back to pacing across the flat.

John sighed, and looked at Molly. She returned his gaze with an understanding smile, before nodding. John fetched his medical kit, and proceeded to examine Molly. After a few minutes, he gave her a couple of pills for her cold. He stood and turned to Sherlock, who was brooding in the kitchen over his microscope.

''Right, well I THINK she's going to live.'' He said sarcastically. He looked at Sherlock, who seemed to be ignoring him. John continued speaking.

''I'm just going to make sure she gets home alright, since you dragged her all the way over here.'' He smirked.

''Carried.'' Sherlock replied dryly. John had returned to the living room to take Molly back to her flat, only to discover that she had curled up on the sofa, and was fast asleep. John smiled, and quietly returned to the kitchen. Sherlock glanced up from a moment.

''Aren't you taking her home?" He asked impatiently. John shook his head, before tilting it in the direction of the sofa. Sherlock's eyes followed the invisible line that John's head drew toward the living room. They slowly fell onto Molly's sleeping form. He let a small grin escape past his lips, before reenforcing his shield. John noticed the action, even so. He smirked before speaking in a half whisper.

''I'm just going to go to the store, probably get some soup for her. Let her sleep, Sherlock.'' He said, a warning tone in his voice. Sherlock grunted in response. John rolled his eyes before turning and exiting the flat. Moments after, Sherlock was out of his chair, and walking toward Molly's still form on the sofa. He reached over the edge of the couch, and grabbed a blanket. He carefully draped it over her, and took his place in his chair. He watched her, noting how her lips opened slightly when she exhaled, the way her hair fell over her face and draped on her shoulders. He saw the way her chest moved as she inhaled a slow, steady breath, and the peaceful look her face held as she slept. Sherlock felt his stomach do a small flip. He went to his mind palace to store away the new information. He hadn't heard John return, and then leave again, stating something about his date. He also hadn't heard Molly wake up, and remained unaware that she had stayed, watching him with wonder. Sherlock was brought out of his thought by the smell of coffee. He looked up, to see Molly padding out of the kitchen with two mugs in hand. She smiled sweetly at him as he eyed her.

''I made coffee.'' She said quietly, handing him a mug as she sipped from her own. He took it in hand, fingers grazing hers. He noted her cheeks blush as she took her position on the sofa again. He felt something deep in his gut stir as he took note of her flowing hair framing her jaw.

''Are you feeling better?" He asked lowly. She nodded back at him, sipping her coffee again. He watched as the liquid flowed past her pinkish lips, gazing with boyish curiosity. Again, the agonizing twinge in his middle stirred. Molly took note of the way his face suddenly contorted into a look of pained confusion.

''Are you okay, Sherlock?" She asked, sounding as equally worried as he appeared. He looked up at her, before nodding a little too brusquely. Sherlock sipped his coffee, stealing another glance at her from over his mug, resulting in another jab from within his core. Suddenly, Sherlock placed his mug on the side table and stood up. His stride was quick as he made his way to where she sat. Her eyes shot up at him, the worry only growing. His long, slender fingers reached for the cup as he gently pulled it from her hand, setting it aside along with his.

His eyes returned to hers as he hovered above her slightly. He slowly breathed, as did she.

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Oooh, what's going to happen? Find out in the next chapter. Lol. Review if you please. Thanks peoples!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews from:

InaLinger-Cinabard - thank you! I try to keep them in character as much as I can, even in out of character situations. Glad you like it. This chapter be long, so that's good.

SexyKnickers- first off, Hilarious name! It made me happy. Second of all, sorry it took longer than I'd hoped. Lol, working class and whatnot. Work owns my soul, sigh. Hope you weren't waiting in agony!

And Moriarty-Florence Moriarty- thank you! I really like your stories too. I'm glad you finally updated Change. :)

Rated M for what I would only assume to be obvious reasons. Sex, if i'm being indelicate. I actually have very limited knowledge on the subject, so I hope I don't disappoint. Lol. Anyway, just a reminder note...i don't own squat. Just a fan! Lol. Okay, on to chapter two!

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Sherlock's body loomed over Molly's as he stared her down in her spot. She looked up at him, wide eyed, as his arms stretched out on either side of her head. Sherlock supported his weight with his arms stretched across the span to the back of the sofa. His deep blue eyes dove into her lighter brown ones, as he deduced her reaction. He slowly bridged the gap between the two bodies, and Molly felt her breath catch in her lungs.

''Sh..Sher..lock ?" She began, slightly unsure of what to ask. His response was a low hum, still drawing closer to her, his eyes roving over her features.

''Wh..what are you doing?" She asked, barely more than a whisper. He continued his descent, the pace almost torturously slow. He finally breathed, inhaling the scent of her hair and slowly exhaling on her cheek. Sherlock leaned slightly closer, whispering to the skin on her neck directly behind her ear.

''Sh, experiment. Please?" He felt her shudder underneath him, taking it as a yes. Molly simply nodded her head, unable to do anything else. Sherlock slowly wrapped his hand around her slender neck, his fingers reading her smooth skin as he touched. He drew his hand along her hairline, noting the scoop at the back of her neck. His fingers walked along the perimeter of her ear, as he traced its rounded edges. Molly closed her eyes, trying to focus on breathing. Once his fingers left her ear at the front, they followed the line of her jaw down to the front of her neck. Sherlock gently pushed on the crevace in Molly's neck, silently instructing her to tilt her head back. She easily complied, but not without gulping in nervous fashion. Sherlock grinned, almost wickedly, at her reaction. He then became focused on the task at hand. He brought his long fingers across the front of her neck, feeling the structure beneath her skin. He could feel her heart pounding away just under the location, distant, yet close enough to send an echoing shockwave through her. He lowered his head again, to the front of her stretched neck. Sherlock blew a long, steady stream of air across her skin as he exhaled. Molly again shuddered, gasping in response. Sherlock's stomach flipped at the short sound that escaped from her lips. He gazed up to look at her serene face. Molly bit her lower lip, in attempts to keep what little control she had of her breathing. Her brow furrowed slightly, in pleasure rather than pain. Her eyes had closed, but rapidly moved behind her delicate eyelids. Sherlock decided to move back up and investigate this part of her next. His sudden absence from her neck caused Molly to open her eyes, meeting his intense stare. She took note of his darkened irises. She attempted to speak, though it was broken.

''So. What...what's this ex..per. experiment for?" She asked, taking in shallow gasps of air between his soft kisses on her lids. Sherlock kissed an eyelid, then the other, noting how smooth her skin was here. His hand had continued its exploration of her neck, while the other began a new trek through her thick, auburn hair. His breath passed over her left cheek, where another kiss landed. Then to her right cheek. Another kiss. Molly couldn't decide what to focus on: the hot steady breath that ghosted past her face, the hand that traced the outline of her collarbone, or the one that had nestled itself into her locks, lightly massaging her scalp. She decided to then focus on his dark, low voice, when he finally spoke.

''I'm easily bored. And I so do enjoy..experiments.'' he said, a slight hoarseness at the end of his thought. Molly felt her heart fall into her stomach at the sound behind his voice. She felt his lips above hers, achingly close without touching. She felt herself needing to be closer, as she unconsciously closed the gap. Her lips drove into his with force, and she heard him breathe in sharply. Seconds later, his body relaxed as he learned the curves of her lips. He traced the outline lightly with his tongue, which evoked a moan from Molly's throat. The sound only encouraged Sherlock, driving him to deepen the kiss by swiping his tongue over her lower lip again, this time with more force. Molly opened her mouth as a gasp sounded from it. Wasting no time, Sherlock took this opportunity to explore past her lips, his tongue glancing over the top of her teeth, and colliding with her own tongue. The action emboldened Molly, as she sat up to press closer to Sherlock. Her hands grasped his dark curls at the back of his head, and she pulled him further into her. The sudden change in pace shocked Sherlock, and he again braced himself with an arm against the back of the couch. The kiss finally broke as the two gasped desperately for air. Molly tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling with half closed eyes.

Sherlock took the chance of her exposed neck to kiss down her jawline and onto the front of it. Molly gasped as his kisses turned into light scrapes. He raked his teeth lightly against her pale neckline, and along her collarbone. He immediately soothed the scratches by licking over them, dragging his tongue over the trail he had just blazed on her flesh. Molly's fingers combed through Sherlock's hair as her shallow breaths drew in and quickly out. She moaned, a bit more loudly, as she felt his hands once again join the expedition. His fingers grazed her sides, almost tickling her skin as they passed over. She felt one arm wrap around her lower back, and pulled her further off the sofa and against his torso. The other kept on its journey, hand crossing from her waist, down to her hip, and then onto her right thigh. Molly felt his fingers dig into her flesh as he squeezed the muscle on her upper leg. As the pressure was added to her thigh, so was the pressure on her neck. Sherlock moved closer to her, his knees now flush against the sofa's edge on the floor. Molly had one leg on the floor at his side, the other propped up on the cushion, as he flexed his hand around it. Suddenly, the pace quickened, yet again.

Molly felt the arm holding her in place move to the front of her, and soon the other hand left its position on her thigh to join it. She whimpered at the sudden lack of contact, but soon forgot as she felt where the hands had taken to. Sherlock's fingers wrapped around the end of her shirt, and he began pulling up. Molly complied with the unspoken request and held her arms straight in the air. With a swift flick, her blouse was gone. She shivered slightly at the cold air against her exposed flesh. Her eyes looked to Sherlock, only to catch him staring in deep concentration at her chest.

''There's always something...'' he muttered to himself. Molly tilted her head, confused.

''What do you mean?" She asked. 'Oh wonderful, something is wrong with me.' She thought to herself. Sherlock's voice broke her from her thoughts.

''At Christmas, I said you had been...compensating. I was wrong. There's always something I miss.'' He said, sounding aggravated with himself. Molly smiled to herself as she lightly pushed herself out to him, hinting that he continue. Sherlock's hands took new positions. His left had reached back to Molly's thigh, only this time raking along the underside of it, coming to a gripping rest just below her bottom. His right hand sat on her side, and began to travel across her tight stomach. His fingers recorded the feeling of the skin here, documenting the way her muscles felt beneath. His head returned to laying soft kisses on her neck and shoulder, before he made his way lower to the flesh between her breasts. Sherlock could feel Molly's heart fluttering beneath his lips when he kissed, and he heard the echo of her sudden intakes of air as she gasped at his caresses. His right hand then went to her shoulder, pushing down the skinny strap to her bra off the perpetual cliff.

Molly felt her bra loosen slightly, and decided to help. She sat up and reached behind her, unclasping the hooks and then sliding the bra off her body took the bra by one strap, before flinging it away, not caring on the projected location it would land. He sat up, taking in the sight of Molly's exposed chest. His mouth broke into a smirk, the look was mischeveous.

''Definitely missed that.'' He said to himself, as he gazed on her. Molly felt a blush rise to her chest, and her breath came in staggered spurts. His hand returned to the skin between her breasts, and he slowly rubbed it up and down. Molly felt the flesh warm with the brushing of his hand against her, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the pressure. Then, the hand stopped. It slowly slipped to her left breast, and proceeded to run across the tender skin. Molly couldn't resist a moan as she felt Sherlock's thumb graze her nipple. It immediately stood to attention, the resounding chill in the room only assisting the process. She felt Sherlock's other hand leave her leg, taking the route up her backside. His hand slowed over her bottom, where it raked across the tight flesh. Molly moaned again, and arced into Sherlock, grinding into his hand. She heard him chuckle amusedly at her actions. His hand then gave her a quick squeeze as it swiftly left to join its partner exploring her chest. Molly slid her leg onto the floor, and realized that she was practically straddling Sherlock, whose body crouched between her legs. That was when she first took notice of the way his body had been reacting, without her even knowing. She felt his length pushing up against her inner thigh through his black dress trousers. She opened her eyes to meet his, the dark blue had been all but completely washed out by his large pupils. The only blue remaining was a thin ring around his now black orbs as he gazed on her body with lust. Molly was distracted from their staring match as his hands clasped firmly around her breasts.

''Oh, Sherlock.'' she breathed, eyelids fluttering closed as she leaned back into the sofa, allowing him further access to her. Sherlock felt his stomach kick him from inside, a sensation that continued through his midsection to his groin. He stifled a moan at the sound of her voice calling his name, refocusing himself to paying her attention. Sherlock took her breasts in his hands, noting how much smoother her skin was here than the rest of her. He gently squeezed them, applying equal pressure to the pair, which in turn solicited an even deeper moan of his name from her lips. He gazed in curiosity as the motions of his hands had a rippling effect on Molly's body. She arched into his firm hands and gasped when he blew warm air across each of her nipples. Sherlock felt a gutteral urge to take one of the small pebbles into his mouth. He let his tongue swivel back and forth over the top of it, while he massaged her other breast in his hand. His thumb raked over her nipple as his tongue did with the breast it occupied. The sound that came from Molly this time was not a moan, but rather a higher pitched whimper of sorts. Sherlock looked up from his steady position to see Molly 's head thrown back, one hand tangled in her hair. Her mouth hung open as she took short, desperate sips of air between moans and cries. Sherlock reveled in the notion that her pleasurable moans were his doing.

Suddenly, the touching and kissing was not enough for either of them. The pace changed again, this time to a ferociously rapid speed. With a swift motion, Sherlock swept Molly's legs from the floor and locked her ankles behind his back. His long arms swooped around her lower back as he picked her up. Their mouths met in a fiery kiss that shook them both to their cores. Sherlock quickly walked down the hall to his bedroom door. Molly's small fingers made quick work with the buttons on his shirt, as she pushed the material over his shoulders. She broke the kiss they shared and took to kissing his neck in the same fashion he had done to hers before. Sherlock moaned gruffly as her soft lips bore into him, followed by her teeth scraping into his flesh. He hissed slightly as his eyes rolled back into his head. Sherlock pushed Molly against the door to his bedroom, pinning her between the cold wood and his burning flesh. She gasped as he pinned her, shocked by the raw force behind the motion. He chuckled into her hair, a playful sound, the kind that meant he was up to no good. His hand fumbled along the door until he found the knob. He twisted it open, almost falling into the room, as it pushed open from behind Molly's back. Sherlock forcefully strode over the small distance to his bed. He first gently set Molly on the edge of the mattress, and shrugged the shirt from off his arms. He then reached down to her leg, and yanked her body forward by her ankle. Molly's body flipped from under her, landing her on her back with one leg propped up on the mattress's edge, the other being rung through Sherlock's strong hand. She giggled as the air reentered her lungs, the fierce action filling her middle with more want. She looked up to see Sherlock concentrating on unbuttoning her pants. She decided to return the favor and reached down to undo his belt. Sherlock batted her hands away until he had finished undoing the button on her slacks. He then bent over her, crouching like a wild jungle cat. He leaned his head down, and Molly watched with widened doe-like eyes as he took the zipper to her trousers in between his teeth. He slowly pulled down, and it took everything in Molly to not lose herself. 'Not yet.' She thought. He finished, and popped his head back up to admire his own handiwork. Molly took this as opportunity.

She rolled so that she was suddenly on her knees, pulling Sherlock closer by his belt buckle. His hand went down in hopes of assisting her, but was quickly slapped away. He quirked an eyebrow at her fiestiness, and she smiled wickedly at him. Sherlock stood still as Molly fumbled with the belt's mechanisms. She had at one point pulled too hard, jarring Sherlock and his growing muscle. She was rewarded with a deep groan, as Sherlock fisted his hand through her hair. She finally freed him of the belt, and finished the rest quickly, not bothering to take her time undoing anything. He stood before her, his pale skin soaking in the moonlight that leaked through his window. Molly stared him up and down, then placed a hand on his chest. She felt his heart beating quickly behind his ribs. With her other hand she started at the base of his hips and slowly stroked his skin with her fingernails. Sherlock's head rolled back as he stood there, almost too subdued to move. He felt her hand trace along the visible veins in his legs, down onto his thigh, and then back up again. Molly suddenly grabbed him, choosing force, rather than gentleness. Sherlock moaned and rolled his head.

''Molly, oh Mol...''he grunted as her hand worked its way up and down his length. She had just started to increase her pressure on him when he regained control of himself. His fingers reached down and grabbed her wrist firmly. She stopped and looked back up at his face. He smirked at her sinfully, and proceeded to grasp her other wrist in his hands. Then, with one hand holding her wrists, Sherlock took his now free hand and brought Molly's legs from under her again. Molly let out a gasped moan as Sherlock's still free hand worked her trousers off her legs, bringing her underwear with them. She attempted to free one of her hands from his grip, which only tightened in response.

''Ah, ah, ah. Naughty naughty, Dr. Hooper. Remember, this is my experiment.'' He said, his voice crackling with a hoarse cut to it. Molly moaned as he cooed in her ear, using her title in a completely unprofessional manner. He pulled her bottom to the edge of the bed, and pushed his knee between her legs, urging her to open them. Sherlock then guided one of her legs around his waist. Molly's breath picked up as he leant down, nibbling on her neck. She slanted her neck back in bliss as he kissed down her collar to her breasts. He took one of them into his mouth, giving it a quick suckle, before gently clipping the nipple with his teeth. Molly moaned loudly at the new sensation. She then felt his head continue is path down her body, trailing kisses along her stomach to her pubic bone. He took his free hand and slid it down between her legs, resting just above where she wanted his hand to be. Molly whined slightly and ground her pelvis into his palm. She again tried to release a hand from Sherlock's imprisoning hold, and her wrists were pushed into the soft mattress further. Only this time, Sherlock granted her unspoken need and trailed his deft fingers down her abdomen.

Sherlock glanced up to her face, and was greeted with a seductive head nod from the young woman. He grinned as he saw her bewitched expression. He waited for a deep intake of breath from her before embarking further south. A long, musician's finger rolled across her pink flesh, and Molly rolled into the contact immediately. His finger was joined by the others as he rubbed all around the flush skin, producing small mews from Molly's throat. Sherlock leaned over her body once more, and captured her mouth in his as he slid the longest finger past the folds and deep into her center. Molly bucked against his hand, his mouth swallowing her moans of pleasure. After a few moments, he broke the kiss, and again journeyed down the plains of her body, going past her stomach. He released her wrists and splayed his hand across the curve of her hip. Her hands were tangled in his dark curls nearly straight away, as she lightly pulled on them. Molly felt his hot breath at her entrance.

The first touch had been swift, a teasing slash of his tongue over her bundle of nerves. The shocking feeling of pleasure and agony was quickly replaced by simple ecstasy as Sherlock took hold of her in his mouth. The grip on his hair tightened, Molly clearly being undone by the flicks of his tongue over and in her.

''Oh Christ, Sherlock!" She yelped sharply, her upper body lurching her into a sitting position. Sherlock's hands wrapped around to her backside, pulling her closer into him. He moaned into her soft, wet flesh as she bucked into his mouth, moaning and squealing with delight. She had nearly snapped when suddenly all contacting touch disappeared. Molly whimpered sadly at the loss, which was met with another dark chuckle. she gazed at him, as he slid her body further onto the bed, granting him ample room on the soft material of the sheets. He tapped her legs, instructing them to circle around him. Sherlock lifted Molly's chin, and placed a firm kiss on her lips. She felt him enter her, stilling her rigid body. Sherlock's racing mind came to a screeching halt as he slowly rocked into her. No deductions, no calculations, no recorded thoughts or facts swam through his mind. The feeling was as invigorating to him as the physical sensation of being inside of her. With a consenting moan, Sherlock pushed into her completely, unable to surpress the groan that rose thickly from his chest.

''Molly, mmmMolly...'' he started, his voice trailing off as he pulled out of her and then driving into her center again. Molly gasped upon the movement, feeling the lava inside her beginning to overflow. Her head dropped back into the bed as he picked up the tempo. Her moans grew louder as he plowed into her, pushing her small body deeper and deeper into his mattress. Sherlock's own moans of bewildering pleasure grew to new volumes, his body in bliss at the feeling of her encompassing him. He could feel her muscles slowly wind in up and tightening around him. He opened his eyes and stared down upon her, not wanting to miss the joyful expressions she made. Molly's hands grabbed the covers tightly, her small fingers splaying across his cream colored sheets. The fabric intertwined itself in her pale fingers, and he could see the outline of her bones clenching. Sherlock threw his head back as he continued, losing his reserve. His thrusts into her core became more uneven and unpredictable. His grunts of searing ecstasy mixed with her rising cries of pleasure. She snapped first, her body trembling around him as he continued into her. His undoing was her final moan.

''Please, Sherlock...please.'' it was a whispering plea, almost a wish. Sherlock's arms dropped down onto either side of her, his fists digging into the sheets. He finally lost what strength he had used in the final moments, collapsing onto Molly's chest. Her hands trailed through his hair and down his shoulders as he breathed deeply between her breasts. Her own breath slowly returned to normal, and soon, she submitted herself to the tired feeling that overwhelmed her. She smiled sweetly as she felt Sherlock move up on the bed next to her. He wrapped her in his arms, and wrapped both of them up in the sheet. Sleep consumed them, Molly dreaming blissfully, and Sherlock's mind running at a relaxingly slow pace.

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John had returned home a few hours later, his date having ended horribly. He saw neither Molly nor Sherlock in the still lit living room. He looked around, feeling a slight change in the air. His eye caught sight of two mugs on the table. 'Hm, odd.' He thought to himself. He went about his business, and plopped down into his chair, before his eye caught something else. Dangling from the cattle skull above Sherlock's desk was a light blue bra. John's eyebrows shot up his face, as curiosity chimed in. He stood, and stepped quietly down the hall, to in front of his flatmate's door. Taking not of the silence, John quietly pushed the door open, and gazed at his friend's arm surrounding the small pathologist's body. Their breathing was steady, calm. He pulled the door shut, and walked into the living room, smirking.

''Finally. I'm not sure how much longer I could've handled all that bloody sexual tension.'' He said to himself, an amused laugh rose in his chest.

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Well, what do you think? It on took me all bloody day to write, but I wanted to make sure it was good. Hope you liked it. Leave me comments! Thanks all!


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so I had a request to keep going, so here's a follow up chapter. The ''morning after'' chapter, as it were. Thank you for the review and wanting it to continue, MuteBanana. I hope I do not disappoint. By the way, I've said your pen name like 20 times in a row, because it's so addicting and fun to say. Lol. Enjoy!

And to the starlitrose: glad I could brighten your day! Hope you like the follow up chapter too.

I hope you ALL like it! LIKE IT, I SAY!

okay, that may have been a tad extreme. Lol.

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Molly awoke to the feeling of absolute warmth. She had snuggled under the blankets and curled into a ball. Her eyes opened slowly, when she realized that this was not her bedroom. She widened her gaze slightly, searching for something familiar. Her eyes tore from the door, to the surrounding wall. Periodic table poster, beautiful cream colored paint, dark door. That's when Molly searched other areas. Mainly, the floor. Clothes scattered from the doorway to the bed she was curled up in. Not only hers, but another set. That's when she saw it. That trigger piece that brought her memory flooding back to her. On the floor, next to her pants, was a deep purple dress shirt. Sherlock's purple dress shirt. Molly's eyes widened as she swiftly remembered the evenings..activities. Even more current, she lay naked, in Sherlock's bed. She grinned giddily to herself, snuggling her face further into the pillow. Molly then felt a movement behind her. She stopped, and listened.

Sherlock had slept peacefully. He never slept, let alone without being woken by his racing thoughts. He felt a warmth rising in his chest as he unconsciously held something close to him. Sherlock moaned in his sleep, not wanting the object to leave his side, so he hugged it closer, mumbling an incoherent thought. He then drifted off to sleep.

Molly had managed to roll herself over, so her front was now facing his. She had almost woken Sherlock accidentally, but quickly changed positions as he stirred in his sleep. His breath steadied again, and he fell back into his slumber. Molly had decided she could be very content in staying like this for the rest of the day. She closed her eyes, and soon, she too, had drifted back to sleep.

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Sherlock woke a few hours later, his legs feeling sore, the rest of his body equally aching. He slowly stretched, not wanting to cramp any muscles. As he stretched out his arms and chest, he became very aware of something lying close to him. He opened his eyes and focused on the close up bundle. Reddish-brown hair, soft tender skin, two lovely feeling curves...ah yes. Sherlock knew in an instant. He looked down again, this time focusing on the face. Molly's eyes were closed lazily, as she twirled her finger around a strand of her hair. Her other hand had placed itself on his hip, and it gently drew a line up and down as she dreamt. The sensation of her skin lightly caressing his caused his body to yearn for the feelings it had finally experienced in the night previous. His groin quickly alerted him to the attention it so desparately desired, pulsating and grinding a pain into his stomach. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his body's more primal urges to simply take what it wanted and craved. He needn't control them for long, however.

Molly had been stirred from her sleep by the feeling of an ever warming body pressing deeply into hers. She peeked open an eye, and saw Sherlock, hovering above her side, clearly attempting to rid himself of a morning visitor. She nearly giggled at the sight of him, trying to simply will it away. She could feel his length pressing into her leg, feeling it grow harder by the second. Deciding the element of surprise was best, Molly slipped her hand from Sherlock's hip, and onto the organ that was in between them. She trailed her fingers up one side, and then down the other. Her actions were met with a low growl of pleasure from the tall man next to her. She looked up to see his eyes piercing through her. Sherlock moved his hand to trace the line around her nipple, and it peaked upon contact. Molly had quickly felt the rising pool of lust in her center, and took matters into her own hands. She rolled over quickly, flipping herself over him, so that she now sat straddling his waist and hips. Sherlock looked up at her, eyes ablaze with curiosity.

''Molly...'' his voice was thick with the morning, and mixed with sure want. She smiled down at him, before grinding her hips against his, and letting out a breathy moan. Sherlock's eyes closed as he slid his hands to each side of her, holding her in place by her smooth hips. She giggled and made the jerking motion again. This time, Sherlock joined in the loud moan.

''Molly, mmmmbloody..hell.'' he croaked out, barely managing the words between her hips crashing into his. She liked stimulating a response from him. She leaned over his torso, and kissed him on the crevace of his neck. Molly trailed a path of kisses from his neck, up to his ear, where she bit and gently nibbled on his soft earlobe, before whispering to him.

''I like experiments too, Mr. Holmes. Would you like to help me with one?" She purred seductively. She had sounded like a sex-crazed feline, not the sweet innocent girl from the morgue that he knew. The only response Sherlock could muster to the temptress was a labored nod of the head, accompanied by a throaty 'mhmm.' Molly smiled, almost on the verge of naughtily, as she slid down his legs, slowly. Sherlock hissed at the rush of nerves firing sensations throughout his body to his overloading brain. He placed his hands behind his head, not knowing where else to put them, as she kissed the tip of him.

Molly then surprised him completely. She opened her mouth slightly, and allowed him to pass through her lips, and into her warm mouth. She breathed in and out slowly through her nose, as she took in his full length. Sherlock pushed his head back into the pillow, his hands suddenly flying to the tangled nest of her hair. Molly moaned on his tender muscle, as he tangled his hands through her wild hair. She slowly made her way up and down him, licking across the veign she could see under his skin. Sherlock suddenly pulled her off of him, and up to where she had sat, straddling his middle. She grinned at him, attempting to appear innocent.

''Why, Sherlock, is everything okay?" Molly asked, in a coy sounding voice. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, before grinning back at her. He growled wickedly against her ear, before pulling her into a deep kiss. Molly moaned loudly into his mouth, almost getting caught up in the moment. 'No, this is my turn.' She reminded herself. As Sherlock kissed her, she sat up, before grabbing him and easing him into her sex. This warranted a deep moan from both of them. Sherlock moved a hand from Molly's hair to her bottom, the other cradling her at the base of her neck and shoulder. Molly had thrown her head back, firmly entwining her slender fingers in between the dark, curly locks of his hair. For a moment, neither of them moved. Only after adjusting to the new position did Sherlock initiate the first action. He slowly lifted his hips up into her pelvis, and she immediately responded by grinding her hips deeply against his. Molly gasped at the feeling of him so deep inside her walls. She made the second move by pushing up on her knees, and then slidig back down. Sherlock seemed pleased with this gesture, and coaxed her to do it again.

Molly felt his hand squeeze her bum tightly, pleading with her to repeat the stunt. Molly granted his request, this time sliding up further, before swiftly sliding back to her original position. The grip on her backside tightened, as Sherlock became severely more aroused. His arms were soon sweeping under her legs, assisting the motion in as rapid a matter as he could. Molly gasped and moaned each time he drove into her. She found herself holding onto his shoulders in a death grip, fearing she would fall off of him otherwise. As he continued on, Molly couldn't resist biting into his shoulder, trying to muffle her trills of praise for his efforts. Sherlock stifled a low grunt as the pain winced through him. He could feel her inside, gripping around him with pulsing muscles. He knew it was only a short time before she broke, as well as he.

''Molly, oh Molly please...'' he whispered, a low growl rumbling into her ear. Molly gasped at the sound, and her grasp around his shoulders tightened.

''Sherlock! Mmmm! Say it again!" She squeaked, caught off guard by his change in speed. Sherlock chuckled at the sound of her begging cries.

''Please, Molly. Please.'' He howled again into her ear, his voice dark and gruff. Molly's body clamped around him, her breathing became erratic, as she trembled against him, crying out his name a final time. Sherlock pushed into her a few more times, before he too, unraveled. They both hugged each other tightly, not wanting to part from the other. Finally, their breathing calmed, heart beats returning to normal. Molly leaned her head into Sherlock's chest for minutes, listening to the soothing thumps of his heart. She heard his voice echo in his chest.

''I have wanted to do that, for far too long.'' He spoke low, barely above a whisper. She looked up at him, curiosly displaying a grin.

''How long is far too long?" She asked in return. He gazed down at her, smoothing away the hair that had stick to the sweat on her brow.

''Since the night you wore that beautiful dress for me.'' He sighed in admittance. He felt Molly smile against his chest, as they both chuckled together. After a few moments of silence, Molly asked, not bothering to move.

''Well, Mr. Holmes, how many more trials before you have laid this experiment to rest?" She giggled at the pun. He chuckled before replying,

''Oh, I think there are far too many things in the way of variables, don't you agree, Dr. Hooper?" he leaned back, taking in the sight of her, before leaning in to gently kiss her lips.

''Shall we continue with the next trial?"

''Oh, without a doubt.

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Well, there ya go. Hope you liked it. I actually had a lot of fun writing a bonus chapter for this one. I had been considering it anyway, but when a request for one came up, I couldn't say no! Thank you for reading. Review and read the other fics too, if you please! Later darlings! 


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